Kate Forsyth - Eileanan 05 by Forsyth Kate

Author:Forsyth, Kate
Language: eng
Format: epub

The Isle of Divine Dread

Fand crouched in the darkness, listening. Although the silence was undisturbed by even a shiver of air or a slow trickle of water, Fand knew that they were there, listening to her as intently as she listened to them.

Gingerly she risked moving, stretching out one foot and extending her toes, clenching and unclenching her fingers. It had become a horrible sort of game to her, the only sort of resistance she had to the constant torment of their regard. They wanted her to die, she knew it, they wanted her to give up and let her muscles lock, her lungs collapse, her blood freeze. Although Fand longed for the gentle release of death, to die would be to allow them to triumph. Some stubborn shred of resoluteness kept her alive within the ruins of her mind and spirit, kept her heart beating despite all they did to her.

Fand did not know how long she had been trapped here. Her life before the sisterhood was like a fragment of dream that lingered on long after one had woken, more an impression of emotion than a memory. She had been happy, she knew. There had been a shining sea and soft sand and warm kisses that had filled her body with light and life. There had been a face, dark skinned and proud, with silver-blue eyes intent with passion . . .

The darkness stirred. She froze.

"Who?" they whispered. "Who do you love? Who do you hate?"

Fand did not reply. Slowly the lurid green light grew up all around her. A circle of priestesses stood over her, their faces made grotesque by the shifting green phosphorescence.

"Why do you not die?" one asked.

"Are you not cold enough? Are you not hungry enough?"

"Why do you not die?"

"Do you hate us?"

"Do you wish we were dead?"

"Do you love us?" They bent over her. Doom-eels wriggled in their left hands, their squirming tails shining blue-white. Fand shrank back. "Who do you love?"

"I love you," she said, her voice hoarse. Her limbs twitched uncontrollably.

"Well, we do not love you, stupid spawn jelly," they said and lashed her with the electric tails of the doom-eels. She scrabbled away, but they were all around her, laughing. She curled up into a ball, her arms about her head, her knees drawn up to her chin. The doom-eels did not strike again. After a moment she looked up.

"Do you love Jor?" The hiss was soft, sibilant.

"Yes, yes, I love Jor," she gabbled.

"Jor is all. Jor is might. Jor is strength. Jor is power." The priestesses paced around her, their voices rising in passion. "Jor is all. Jor is might. Jor is strength. Jor is power."

"Jor is all," Fand agreed. "Jor is power."

For a long time the only sound was the swish of their furs on the stone, the hiss of the doom-eels' tails.

Fand waited.

"Who?" they whispered. "Who do you love? Who do you hate?"

"I love Jor. Jor is all. Jor is might. Jor is strength. Jor is power."

"Jor is all.

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